Worlds Collide
by Emma L. Wright
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester think they're on just a run of the mill hunt until the brothers meet the shadowhunters of the New York Institute. Worlds collide as Sam and Dean race to help the Nephilim take down Sebastian Morgenstern and his demon army before it's to late for both worlds.
1. Chapter 1: Djinn Attacked

**I am surprised at how few crossovers of The Mortal Instruments and Supernatural there are. The stories are so similar to me. I was curious as to see if it was a lack of interest that was the reason behind the poor numbers, or whatever else is the reason. Anyway, tell me what you think and enjoy.**

Chapter 1: Djinn Attacked

"This was not a good idea," Sam muttered to himself for what felt like the hundredth time since they had entered the long abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Brooklyn, New York.

However, Dean had seemed convinced that barging into the possible hideout of three djinn with no plan or backup seemed like a brilliant idea with just their bronze knives and lamb's blood. But Dean had been acting reckless and a little stupid ever since they picked up on the possible hunt.

Sam knew exactly why Dean had been so quick to jump on the job after a couple of bodies had shown up seemingly surgically drained of all their blood. Castiel was still missing - for all they knew dead. Not that either brother would ever admit it out loud, but it was on both's minds. And when Dean didn't want to deal with problems like this, he threw himself into a hunt safety or caution be damned.

A loud creak was heard somewhere further in the old building and Sam and Dean froze. "Hear that?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yep," Sam replied, lifting his knife in a more ready position.

The creaking noise came again, but instead of stopping the brothers continued quickly and quietly making their way towards where the noise was coming from. As they kept going, the creaking became louder and other sounds were added to it. Sam became certain that the two of them were not the only creatures in the building.

They came upon a large, metal door that was cracked open allowing just a sliver of the next room to be seen. The two brothers stopped, listening to see if they could tell whether or not the djinns were having a night in. They heard voices speaking in whispers, but not those they were expecting.

"What could be doing this?" asked a high pitched female voice, who seemed to be very confused.

"No idea," responded British accented male.

"I'd say vampires," replied another girl, also with a British accent, "but then again I've never seen vampires drain their victims with medical equipment."

The hunters gave each other confused looks before silently moving to see what they could from the cracked door.

What they found surprised Sam. He could make out the silhouettes of three people. The light coming from brightly lit streets seeping in from the high windows showed them to

be young - the three of them couldn't be older than 20 or so. There were two girls to match with the two female voices they had heard. One was short and almost pixyish, the other tall and willowy. The third teenager - and only male was tall as well; he was examining the two dead, bloodless bodies lying on the ground. Sam could also see the IVs set up which still had traces of blood in the hanging bags.

Sam watched curious as to what three teenagers were doing in the middle of the night trying to determine what had killed the two people. What had really thrown him for a loop was the suggestion of vampires as a completely plausible explanation. For a second he had thought it was Krissy, Aiden, and Josephine on a hunt. But he quickly dismissed the thought after remembering the two British accents he had heard and catching a glimpse of the tattoos that covered all three's bodies. Besides Krissy, Aiden, and Josephine should have been able to tell it wasn't vampires but djinns that were the killers.

"Kid hunters?" Dean whispered up to Sam, staring intently at the group before him.

"Maybe." Sam responded, planning to say more, but stopping when he heard the boy speak again.

"Well, we should probably call Maryse and get the Clave on it. I still don't know what it is, but this whole place reeks of the supernatural."

"Supernatural and creepiness," the taller girl agreed.

"Just call her Isabelle," the boy sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"Give me a second, Jace," she retorted as she whipped out what Sam assumed was a phone and pushed a few buttons before holding it up to her ear.

"Yeah, Mum?" the girl asked. "Jace, Clary and I went over to Simon's, but on the way back we heard screaming from inside this old warehouse and went in to investigate. By the time we found who we think were the screamers they were dead."

The tall girl - Isabelle's - mother seemed to respond because Isabelle didn't speak for a moment.

"We think it was supernatural. I mean the two bodies are drained of blood. But the weird part is it looks like it was medically removed because there are IV drips and blood on the floor."

The mother seemingly responded again.

"Vampire does seem like the most likely answer, but what kind of vampire goes all doctor on their humans?"

"That's because we're not vampires," came a cool clear female voice from the shadows behind the teenagers.

"Crap," Dean muttered.

"You can say that again," Sam agreed. "Do we go in now?"

"No," Dean instructed. "Let's let it play out a little bit longer. See were it goes."

Sam said nothing and went back to observing a woman walk forward with the fluorescent blue markings of a djinn growing from her fingertips all the way up her arms.

Isabelle, Clary, and Jace and whipped around to watch her approach - Isabelle dropping the phone.

"What do you mean we?" demanded Jace, glaring at the woman.

"I mean my brothers and I," she smirked. Two more djinns came to stand beside her.

"What are you then?" the shorter girl - Clary - asked a little shakily.

The female djinn kept smirking turning her head to the shortest of the three.

"Why I thought you Shadowhunters knew everything. Or are you telling me you all aren't the all knowing gods you think yourselves to be?"

"At least we aren't killers," spat back he boy.

"That's up for debate. It depends on the point of view," one of the male djinn said darkly.

"Well what's not up for debate is the fact that you three killed these two innocent people," piped up Isabelle.

"Five," the female djinn corrected, picking at her cuticles.

"What?" Jace snapped.

"Five people. These two plus you three makes five. Though, I suppose the innocence of the kills will be in question at that point." The female djinn looked positively gleeful at the idea of killing these Shadowhunters, so much so it took Sam a little aback.

The boy raised what appeared to be a long dagger before calling out Samandriel, at which point it began to elongated and glow. A golden whip was being uncoiled by Isabelle and similar weapons to Jace's bright sword were being gripped by Clary.

"Idiot Shadowhunters. Your precious seraph blades and runed weapons won't do a thing to us. We are not demons."

"Now?" Sam questioned his older brother, anxious to stop the djinn before this got out of hand.

"Now," Dean agreed as he reached to yank the door back before the two entered blood- soaked bronze blades in hand.

The Shadowhunters and djinn turned at the sound of the metal door straining against the hinges as it was swung back revealing the two brothers.

"Seraph blades and runed weapons might be useless against djinn but I have a funny feeling bronze daggers dipped in lamb's blood might be a little more effective against you three," Dean grinned, waving the knife at them.

While Jace, Isabelle, and Clary looked confused - the three djinns looked angry and afraid.

"You'd have to hit me with it first," the female djinn snarled, her hands beginning to glow blue along with her eyes as she crouched in a fighting stance, her brothers following suit.

At that point Sam let his years of hunting and instinct take over and raised the knife in front of his body. Before he could even blink one of the male djinn was on top of his snarling and trying to lay his glowing blue hands anywhere he could reach on Sam. The younger Winchester fought back, jabbing and swinging the knife along with punching and kicking at the supernatural creature before him.

It wasn't long before Sam saw an opportunity to end the fight early when the djinn tried to grab his free hand, bending forward slightly and leaving his back exposed. Sam jabbed the knife into its back watching as the blue that seemed to course through the djinn's body flicker and die along with the monster.

Hearing a scream, the hunter yanked the the knife out of the now dead body and turned around to see the female djinn attacking the Shadowhunters. Sam ran over, kicking the female djinn's legs out from under her. Unlike one of her brothers, though, she proved to be a more experienced fighter, punching Sam in the gut and managing to knock him off balance giving her enough time to get back up on her feet.

This particular djinn was good enough to get the upper hand on Sam and bring him to the floor. She perched on top of Sam and smiled darkly, bringing her glowing hand up to his face.

"Shame to kill such pretty packaging," she practically cooed - her hand hovering over Sam's face. She leaned forward, her smile growing wider before keeling over to reveal

Clary frowning at the knocked out djinn - still holding out the butt of one of those glowing swords.

Before the impaired djinn could recuperate swung to the side, jamming the blood crusted dagger into the djinn's heart - the blue fading out like her brother's.

"Thanks," Sam nodded to Clary who gave him a small smile. "Anytime."

"Are those trials still taking it out on you or are you just that out of practice you need a pint sized girl to knock the djinn out before you kill it?" Dean snickered standing behind his own kill.

"I killed two to your one, Jerk," Sam groaned, standing up while clutching his side. "Bitch," Dean replied almost absentmindedly while taking in the damage.

"Who are you two and what were you doing here?" Isabelle cut in, smoothing down her slightly out of place hair.

"Us?" Dean asked, pointing to himself and then to Sam.

"No, the other two guys who marched in here and killed the - the whatever they were," Jace quipped.

"Watch it, Smartass," Dean told him. "I'm Dean that over there is my little brother Sam. Your turn."

"That doesn't explain why you're here in the middle of the night killing people," Isabelle argued.

"We could ask you three the same thing," Sam pointed out.

Both Isabelle and Jace looked like they were about to argue when Clary beat them both to it.

"I'm Clary, that's Jace and Isabelle. We're what's called Shadowhunters - a sort of supernatural police force, I guess. We were coming home from a friend's house when we heard screaming and came to see what was happening. What about you?"

Neither Jace or Isabelle looked happy at Clary telling the complete stranger what little she had, but she ignored them.

Sam smiled at the girl. "We're really just two guys who know a thing or two about the supernatural and try to put a stop to it when it hurts innocent people. We heard about the missing persons and the bodies that have been showing up"

While Sam was giving the vaguest answer he could, knowing his older brother wouldn't be happy with anything less, Isabelle had picked up the dropped cell phone and dialed her mother's number again.

"Mom?" Isabelle talked into the phone. "Yeah, sorry about that. We were sort of ambushed. Yeah, everybody's fine. Uh . . ." Isabelle looked around the room until her eyes landed on Sam. "Just a second, Mum." She held the phone away from her mouth and asked, "What exactly was it that attacked us?"

"Djinn," Dean responded offhandedly.

"Djinn don't glow blue and drink human blood," Jace countered.

"This kind does," was Dean's only offer of an explanation. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother.

Isabelle talked to her mother again. "Apparently it was a mutant strain of djinn." The mother spoke for a few moments before Isabelle talked again. "Two mundies named Sam and Dean. Yeah, there the ones that actually killed the three djinn. I guess they just have the sight. Uh huh. Yeah. Okay. No I don't know that. Well, I could ask."

Isabelle put the phone down a second time who looked between the brothers. "My mum wants to ask you over for dinner. She wants to talk."

"Talk where," Sam asked cautiously.

"At the New York Institute. My family runs it," Isabelle explained. "She wants to meet you and talk."

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look - neither wanting to really go, feeling like it was a bad idea. But at the same time, danger had never really phased the Winchesters and they were both curious about who these Shadowhunter people were.

Dean nodded gruffly before turning to his brother, looking for confirmation in their dinner plans.

"Lead to way," Sam said.


	2. Chapter 2: Dinner Discussions

**Hey guys, this chapters a little shorter, but it was at a good stopping point. And I wanted to change the third person point of view. This time it's from Maryse's perspective. Next I think will be Dean's. Things will start to pick up after that - and I'm debating on whether or not to show things from Sebastian's perspective as well or just stick with or heroes. What do you think?**

Chapter 2: Dinner Discussions

Maryse Lightwood wasn't sure what to make of the two young men sitting to her left at the dining table. The one to her right was the shorter of the pair, barrel chested, with light hair and spring green eyes. A seat down was the younger man, impossibly tall with shaggy dark hair and warm brown eyes. Both of them kept there eyes on there plates, faces creased with questions, and were clearly acting cautiously, even after they had talked openly about what the Nephilim were, their mission in life, and everything about Downworld. They had accepted what Maryse and the four younger Shadowhunters had told them without a word of protest.

The elder of the two put down the chicken he was previously cutting into and opened his mouth to speak. "So let me get this straight. You all are all human-angel hybrids that are kind of like a cult and are sucky at doing what has been our job since we were kids?"

Everyone froze at that, and Maryse felt more than slightly offended. "First of all," came her commanding voice. "Our ancestor, Jonathan Shadowhunter drank the blood of the Angel Raziel and we have the angel's blood as a result. We are the Clave, not a cult - nephilim are not required to stay and hunt the dark creatures of the evil; they may leave if they wish. Also, we have been doing our divine work for far longer than your lifespans, and we are quite proficient at it.

Dean grunted and went back to chewing his dinner shooting his brother Sam a look.

"What I think my brother means to say is where have you all been?" explained Sam.

"What do you mean?" Isabelle asked. "We've been here, kicking monsters butt and taking names."

"But there are more of you, right?" Sam continued. "I mean, all over the world?"

"Yes," Maryse answered. "But how do you know that?"

"Uh." Maryse can see the younger brother's mind wheeling to try and come up with a plausible lie. "Read about it somewhere.

"Did you?" was her only response. "And why would our numbers and locations be of your concern?"

Dean jumped back into the conversation at that point. "You guys do know there was demon invasion, apocalypse, the coming of Eve, and a leviathan invasion right? And that's just the big stuff that's gone down these past couple of years."

There was dead silence before the table erupted into an explosion of voices all clambering to be louder than their neighbor.

"Hey!" Dean's voice came the loudest, and his outburst seemed to catch the attention of his brother, Maryse, and the four younger Nephilim. "Tone it down a second. Jesus Christ."

Maryse was the first to speak. "What exactly are you talking about? Demonic invasions, apocalypses and other nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Sam responded quietly. "A couple of years back a devil's gate was opened and hundreds of demons were allowed to walk upon the earth. That was simply the warm up for an attempt for the apocalypse, though."

"But seeing as we're all still here, the end of days didn't exactly end our days, did it?" Jace quipped, before shutting up after receiving a look from Maryse.

"No, thanks to us and company," Dean muttered.

"You," said Alec, the newest comer to the party beyond Maryse, "you stopped the apocalypse."

Sam gave off a derisive snort.

"What?" snapped Maryse. "Why are you laughing?"

"It's just - Well, someone said to me not to long ago that he couldn't believe we were the guys who once saved the world. I guess he had a point," Sam shrugged.

"You honestly expect us to believe you?" Maryse questioned.

Dean just shrugged. "Believe us, don't believe us. We don't care either way. But just know it did happen. The world's got a death wish so it kept happening. And we're in the middle of a semi-crisis, right now, too." Dean rose from his chair. "It's been great, well, it's been something. Let's not do it again sometime and say we did."

Sam made to follow suit when Clary opened her mouth for the first time since dinner started. "That's it? You're just going to leave?"

"Well, yeah," Sam said. "It was nice to might you guys, and we're glad we could help with the djinn and all, but it's time for us to move on. We've got a friend to find."

"And a motel," Dean added.

"Wait," Maryse called out to the brothers who were on their way out the door. They paused. "If you need a place to stay, you're welcome to our empty rooms, of which there are several."

The table again erupted into a fit of voices for and against the brothers staying for the night.

Maryse held up her hand for silence, and once they were all quiet began to speak. "They saved three of you. The least we could is offer them a place to stay for the night."

Jace looked annoyed by this announcement. "We just met them, why should we trust them enough to let them stay here?"

"Weren't you there during the whole save your life thing?" Dean asked him.

"We'd be very grateful for a place to crash for the night, Mrs. Lightwood." Sam spoke over the others. "But we wouldn't want to be an inconvenience.

"Not at all an inconvenience. Like I said there are plenty of empty rooms here. Clary can show you where. The rest of you," Maryse said, eyeing her three children. "Out."

Clary stood to show Sam and Dean to some of the vacant rooms, while the other three stayed put. The Winchester brothers and the redhead left, but not Maryse's children. She should have known all three of them would be too stubborn to let it go.

"Mum, don't get me wrong. I'm glad they saved Clary, Jace, and me; but do you really think it's a good idea to let two mundanes who seem to know way to much about Downworlders and us to spend the night?" inquired Isabelle.

"If they meant any harm to us, they would have let you lot die in the warehouse. Besides, I have heard rumors of mundane hunters. Besides, the best way to learn more about them is to keep them close." Maryse contradicted.

"You all forget the whole crazy part. They say they stopped the apocalypse and were going on about demon invasions and whatever Eve and leviathan are," Alec pointed out.

Maryse was surprised Jace hadn't opened his mouth yet. He was bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet, glancing often the way Clary and the hunters had left - clearly worried about his girlfriend. So much so, Maryse could see the light flickers of flame flash which were still within him after Clary had stabbed Jace with the Michael Sword.

"Clary will be fine, Jace. And to you my son, what if they're telling the truth? Demons have been up in full force lately - numbers we as Nephilim haven't seen since Jonathan Shadowhunter began our race."

"That doesn't make it the damn apocalypse."

"No, but I can't rule it out. Besides, if they are as good as they think they might be able to help us with our own little demon problem."

"You think those two could go against Sebastian?" Jace finally broke his silence.

"I think we are out of leads, and the way your father talked some hunters were actually very adept at their jobs."

"Wait what?" Jace almost yelled.

"Occasionally the Clave receives word about an incident regarding a mundane killing a rogue Downworlder or ghost or something similar. Your father, Stephen Herondale apparently knew a whole family of them. I think they were called the Campers or Campbells or something like that. The point is, your father seemed to trust them. He believed them very knowledgable, and we're grasping at straws anyway when it comes to Sebastian. We could use whatever help we could get."

"My father knew mundane hunters?" Jace repeated.

"Yes. I don't know how well, but he at least knew of them."

"Why don't we know about them, then?" Alec asked.

"Because most Nephilim are of the opinion - as Dean put it - that they do a sucky job. No more than thrill seekers."

"But Stephen Herondale believed differently?" Isabelle questioned.

"He said - just like with Nephilim - there were both kinds. I'm hoping the Winchesters are the more knowledgable sort. If so, it might just be what we need."

Her two biological children and her adopted son just stared at her incredulous. It was easy for her to tell none of them wanted the two mundanes anywhere near the fight with Sebastian. And in truth, if Stephen hadn't told her stories about the hunters he knew, she would be right there with them. However, Stephen had spoken almost reverently of the ones he knew, claimed they knew more than the Nephilim. Tomorrow would be the time to find out for sure because if they were going to take down Sebastian - they would need all the help they could get.

**I know Maryse might seem a little OOC here seeing as I don't think she'd be this responsive to mundanes coming and staying in the institute , but through flashbacks we'll see just how much Stephen Herondale knew about the hunters and how that influenced Maryse. Besides, the Winchesters did just save two of her kids, and Clary, so . . .**


	3. Chapter 3: Dreaming Memories

**Hey guys, thanks for all the support. I hope you're enjoying reading as much as I'm enjoying writing it. Here you learn a little more about what the guys know about Shadowhunters and find out about an old friend they had as kids hunting.**

**Chapter 3: Dreaming Memories**

Dean couldn't help but shake the feeling there were eyes on him the entire time Clary led him and Sam through the corridors .

"What?" Sam hissed at him, trying to be quiet enough Clary - who was a few paces ahead - wouldn't hear.

"What do you mean what?" Dean replied, glancing back and forth.

"Why are you acting like a paranoid nut job?"

"Bad mojo, Sammy. There's nothing but bad mojo in this place."

"So you think we should skip out? Find a nice, cheap, crappy, bug invested motel instead?"

"No, I think we should reconsider staying in a strange place with people we don't know who like sharp knives."

Sam chuckled under his breath.

It was Dean's turn to ask what.

"It's just they're probably thinking the same thing about us. Why let us - a couple of dagger happy maniacs - sleep in there home?"

"We're not maniacs," Dean replied insulted.

"No, but they don't know that. Besides, I think they're just doing it to be nice. We did save a couple of their asses tonight."

"True," Dean muttered. "But I still gotta bad feeling, Sammy."

Sam wasn't able to respond because Clary had stopped short, trying the knob on the second to last door in the hallway.

"I think this one," she began, swing the door open and peering in, then moving to the last door, repeating her actions, "and this one are empty. If you guys need anything, Isabelle and I's rooms are just around the corner."

"You all live here?" Sam asked for confirmation.

"Well, I don't actually. I live with my mom and soon to be stepdad. But we got back so late because of the djinn and late night dinner, I just texted her that I was crashing at the institute. She's not thrilled when I do it, but she's to tired from wedding planning to care much these days." Clary grinned mischievously at the last part. And Dean couldn't help but grin in return. He had a feeling there was more to this girl than her quiet exterior let on.

"Thanks," he told her, stepping into the closest room. It was bare and simple. A bed, dresser, and side table with another door set into the far right wall - presumably the bathroom. He dropped his duffle on the bed.

"No, thank you. I guess we owe you two one for tonight." And with that Clary left the two brothers, Sam standing in the doorway to Dean's temporary lodgings.

"Will you be able to sleep, or will you stay awake dreaming up more conspiracies?" Sam quipped to his elder brother.

"Why are you so inclined to trust them? I mean you seem to practically be at home."

"Not at home, but I do know what the Nephilim are. There was some stuff back at the bunker about them. Plus, we both know Letta."

"We haven't talked to Letta in ages. And her dad might have been a . . . Shadowhunter, but she made it clear she just wanted to hunt and deal." Dean paused, looking through his bag to find some clothes to sleep in. "What did the Men of Letters stuff say about them?"

Sam shrugged. "Not a lot. Basically just a recap of what we were told at dinner. However, it didn't look like the Men of Letters thought much of them. Elitist, isolationist, idiots, who believe there is no other way than there's.

"Wow. That's . . . descriptive."

"Yeah. The Men of Letters and their hunters occasionally ran into the Nephilim since they have the same job description. One of the journals had a few entries about them, too." Sam paused. "But that Jonathan Shadowhunter guy apparently was a hunter - he just thought we weren't going to win without some extra help."

"So he decided to get the supernatural version of spinach to make him big and strong?"

"Better than what I got," Sam said flatly.

Dean didn't have a response to that. He didn't hold it against his brother in anyway when it came to the demon blood. Sam was a good person - always trying to do the right thing. Hell, he had more of a conscious than Dean did, and it had almost killed the other brother to see what Sam was having to go through for those trials.

"Suppose," he muttered. "Well, I'm hitting the hay if you say they're clean."

"They are."

"Then night, Sammy, and get the hell out of my room."

Sam shook his head, but removed his tall frame from the doorway. A few second later, Dean heard a door shut. He shut his own, and went to make use of his own bathroom. Not fifteen minutes later, Dean was laying down to catch some shut eye - still with that feeling of being watched.

His dreams were that of old memories. He hadn't thought about Letta Nightwatcher in ages. They had been hunter kids together who were generally crammed into a hotel room with Sam for a few days at a time if the dads decided they wanted to go out on a hunt.

"What are you doing?" she asked in that bossy tone of voice. Letta was large and in charge and made sure you knew it.

"Dinner, unless you want to starve," Dean bit back.

"Starving seems like a viable option compared to what you're making."

Dean had been the mature one and instead of retorting, stuck out his tongue.

"Are you two done?" An eight year old Sammy had asked his brother and friend.

"Not if she's going to continue to act like a four year old," Dean had declared, poking her with the spatula he was holding.

"Uh, four and a half." Letta smiled, and Dean knew she had just been screwing with him.

The scene changed from one of the countless motel rooms to a wide open meadow at night.

"You sure this'll work," a now fifteen year old Sam crouched down next to a thirteen year old Letta.

"No," she muttered, drawing symbols in the dirt with a stick. "But it's all I got."

"Works for me," Dean had said, standing above the two and looking intently at the forested treeline in case the Braghest Goblin decided to make a repeat appearance. He seriously hoped not. They had nothing to protect themselves and were completely lost. Letta was working on some sort of spell to locate Dad with relations blood, but it was taking a little too long for his liking.

"There," Letta said. "Now I need a knife and a Winchester. Who's doing this?"

Sammy held out his hand obediently, and Dean passed her the knife. As blood dripped onto the jagged symbol in the dirt she muttered words and clasped her hand with Sam's bloodied one.

"See anything?" she asked.

Sam was concentration hard and frowning when he suddenly opened his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I got him. He was back at the tree, the one we passed that had been split by lightning."

"Let's go then."

The scene changed again and Dean was rolling around on the bed, anxious as he dreamt.

"That girl could beat both your asses into the dirt," Dad said with smile as Letta beat Sam the second time that day. The two were pretty evenly matched, but Sam acted like he was afraid of breaking her 5'5" petite body and Letta fought dirty.

"Oh, come on, Sammy," Dean had called over. He had to be about 17 then, right when he hit his growth spirt and became gigantor, "Dad's over thinking that Letta could beat the both of us blind-folded at once!"

Letta grinned as she stood up from her previous position on Sam's chest.

"You try it then, see how you like it when she claws you," Sam muttered as he, too, stood.

"Maybe I will," Dean smirked as he removed his jacket and took Sam's spot opposite Letta who was already beginning to circle the 21 year old Dean.

"You'd hit a girl, Dean?" Letta asked innocently as she narrowed her eyes.

"Since when are you a girl?"

Letta was fast as a cobra, striking Dean in the gut and knee simultaneously, catching him off guard.

"That a girl!" Dad called, laughing.

Dean hit back with just as much force. While Sam was worried about hurting her, Dean held no such problems. Letta was touch, she had faced those who would've gone a hell of a worse number on her than him. She could take it.

It was a few minutes before Dean had her locked in his grip. Her back to his front and unable to do more than wiggle around.

"She really beat you, Sammy?" Dean joked. He knew it was a bad idea to goad Letta. She didn't get angry when she could get even and laugh after, but he couldn't help it. It was too tempting. But Dean payed for it, just like he always did.

Letta wiggled one arm free and turned to face him, slamming her hand into his face. It wasn't a slap or punch. No, this move had a far worse ending and Dean could've kicked himself and he felt a burning pain where her hand was. He immediately released her and Letta stood back, pleased with herself.

Dean could hear his dad and brother laughing in the background, but didn't pay much attention as he tenderly touched his cheek. "You burned me!" he exclaimed.

"I can heal it," she pacified, taking Dean's face in her hand and examining her handiwork. Her fingers moved swiftly and softly over the handprint and it faded to an angry red.

"Alright that's enough for now you three," Dad had said, making them all move back in the direction of the impala so they could head back to the motel.

Once his father and brother were out of earshot, Dean had started to walk back with Letta by his side. He looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her to his side.

"Do you ever fight fair," he teased.

"Wouldn't be alive if I didn't," she muttered grimly.

Dean had frowned at that but didn't push the subject. He knew Letta hadn't had it easy. Her father was what she called a Shadowhunter - something Dean hadn't full understood at the time - and her mother a human witch who had also dappled with hunting. She had once explained her predicament as being from different worlds and not fully being excepted in either of them.

"But you are, and have to endure the stupidity that is my kid brother and the seriously dated father we have."

"Don't mind much, as long as you wake up."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Wake up. Dean, wake up!"

Dean jolted awake, sitting in an upright decision ready to save the world if need be. It turns out, all he really needed to do was kick his little brother's ass.

"What the hell, Sammy?" Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry man, you were really out. Look, Maryse wants us to meet her in the library. Something about a dude named Sebastian Morgenstern."

"Who?"

"Apparently he wants to take over the world."

"Must be the name. It'd give me issues, too."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just get dressed. We got work to do."

"When do we not?" Dean muttered, but never the less got up, dressed, and strolled after Sam to the library.

**So what did you think? What would you like to see more of? And yes, to all of you, Cas will make an appearance (pretty soon I should think). Anyway, next chapter we get down to business. We talk take down of Sebastian and possibility of Letta appearing (I'd like to have an OC character and I think she could be interesting). Anyway, let me know.**


	4. Chapter 4: Trust to Tell

**Wow guys, I'm so sorry for the . . . two months? . . . delay. I just started college and I'm still technically in high school at the same time. It's confusing and basically means the classes are killer. Why I need to know how to program a computer when I don't want to do anything in computer science is beyond me. But I digress. I took a little break, but I'm back now. The chapters will probably bi or tri weekly now just because I have lots of work. However, I don't want to give this story up. Sorry if it's a little dialogue heavy, but the groups have to give a little of their backgrounds before the real work can begin. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 4: Trust to Tell**

Jace was not a happy camper at the moment. Not only was he up far earlier than he ever wanted to be, but he was going to be forced to reveal things to complete strangers that had no business being in the institute let alone knowing about Sebastian. But Maryse had insisted, saying they already knew about Nephilim and might as well know the whole story.

"Why are we doing this again?" Alec yawned, sprawled out in a chair in the library.

"Because it has a minuscule theoretical possibility of being hypothetically helpful," Jace retorted.

Clary rolled her eyes. "Why are you so against them? They saved us and seem nice enough. Besides, it's not like we're giving them total control over the Clave. We're going to explain the situation of what - - - Sebastian is doing and see if they know anything or can help. If they can't," Clary paused and turned towards Jace, "like Jace so vehemently believes, they'll go on their way, and we'll never see them again."

"Clary's got a point," Isabelle agreed. "What's the harm? We haven't had any leads on Sebastian since the wings and note."

"The Clave wouldn't approve," Jace countered.

Clary laughed. "Since when do you care about what the Clave does or doesn't approve?"

Jace just mumbled under his breath. Maybe the girls did have a point, but he wasn't completely convinced yet. Speak of the devil, Jace thought, as Sam and Dean opened the library doors and walked in. Dean looked barely awake, but Sam was in awe looking at the shelves upon shelves of books.

Even in his sleep deprived state, Dean took notice of his brother and grinned. "It's coffee that gets me going at this early in the morning, but I should of guessed what would get you moving, Dork."

"Ha, ha," Sam muttered, offhandedly as he went to go and investigate the nearest bookshelf.

"Maryse should be here in a minute," Isabelle offered.

Sam seemed to engrossed in the bookshelves to notice and Dean had just plopped himself in a chair at the table in the center of the room and closed his eyes.

Great, Jace thought, this is just great.

Just then Maryse walked into the library, her heels clicking on the hard floor.

"Good, I'm glad everyone got the message," she said as she entered with a member of the Enclave - Yalow.

Sam turned away from the book he had been perusing and Dean opened his eyes slowly.

"Sam, Dean, this is Yalow Greatspear, he is a member of the Enclave here in New York and has had a few run ins with hunters before. I thought he would be a good addition to this talk."

Jace frowned, he didn't really know Yalow all that well - only from Enclave meetings and such, but he couldn't remember him ever mentioning he had run ins with mundane idiots who liked to do their job.

Yalow looked about as pleased as Jace, though, and only confirmed his suspicions that he was not happy to be here when he spoke. "I have. They aren't usually pleasant, but as I'm generally one of the Shadowhunters who is sent away on assignment far from New York and coordinates with the other two American institutes - the one's in Los Angeles and Chicago, I have heard many stories and met a few of your . . . kind." He made a rather sour face at the last bit.

"Have we not been a dream to deal with?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"No," Yalow retorted harshly. "You most definitely have not. Most of the time you get in the way and have no clue what you're doing."

Dean laughed and Sam gave his brother a look.

"What?" Dean asked. "It's just that's exactly how Letta would have described Nephilim."

"Who's Letta?" Isabelle asked curiously.

"Just an old friend," Sam responded a little too quickly.

Jace didn't think that was even remotely part of the story, but Maryse was ploughing on. "Yes, well, maybe we can change some of that. Now, Yalow, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. They ended up giving some much needed aid to Jace, Isabelle, and Clary last night against some djinn. I thought, since we seem to be at our wit's end with Sebastian, I thought we could use a new perspective."

Yalow nodded curtly. "Winchester, eh? You two know a John Winchester?"

"Why?" asked Dean uneasily.

"Heard some story's about the bastard. Apparently he was one of the best of you lot."

"He's our dad," Sam said, softly. "And he passed . . . almost seven years ago, now. Demon got him."

"To bad," was Yalow's only reply.

There was a awkward pause among the group, which Dean - unable to dwell any longer on such old and sad things - broke. "So why was I told to get my ass down here at such an ungodly hour?"

Maryse fidgeted slightly and seemed at a loss at where to begin, so Jace began instead.

All he thought was these idiots had better have a way to deal with his . . . Well, Jace wasn't really sure how to categorize the relationship he had with Sebastian. Brothers was far to close for comfort, and they weren't actually blood. However, there was no denying they were raised the same way by the same man, and that in itself brought some kind of connection.

Jace shook out of his thoughts and spoke. "You two know anything about angels?"

Sam and Dean shared a look of apparent unease.

"Some," Dean replied cryptically. "Why?"

Jace moved over to a bulky object covered by a white sheet that was laying on the table and began lifting the fabric. "Because we received these a little over a month ago from someone named Jonathan Morgenstern."

Under the white sheet was a pair of white angel's wings - feathers stark white and fluffy. There were a heavenly picture if it weren't for the drops of blood staining them where the wings should have been connected to shoulders.

"What," Dean said. "are those?"

"What do you think?" Jace said snidely.

Dean gave him a dark look, but his younger brother interrupted before he could say anything.

"What Dean means is why do you have them and why are they corporeal?" Sam explained.

"Sebastian sent them as a warning along with a note that read - in ancient Greek of course, I am coming." Isabelle piped up.

"Wait, Sebastian?" Sam looked confused. "I thought you said this guy was named Jonathan."

"It is," Maryse finally took over. "Sebastian Verlac was an alias of his. What are you referring to by corporeal?"

"Most angels appear to humans as vessels and their wings are only some kind of spiritual energy. Even if they aren't contained in a human vessel, they're just this ethereal light. I know they can condense this light enough to have their wings become feathers, but I've never seen them detached and remain - well - wings." Dean commented.

"Wait," Clary interjected. "How many angels have you met exactly."

"More than enough," Dean muttered under his breath. A little louder, Dean said to his brother. "You think this Sebastian guy could be working with Metatron?"

Sam shook his head. "We don't know what happened was Metatron's doing. Besides that, I don't think Metatron was just play acting the hermit. I don't they're working together."

"What?" the room chorused at once.

"Long story," was the only answer Dean gave. "Well, we also can't assume it wasn't him. Guy rubbed me wrong from day one."

The younger hunter rolled his eyes at his brother. "I'm just saying we don't know since we haven't heard from Cas. Anyway," he turned back to the Nephilim. "Who is this Sebastian guy?"

"It's a long story, too." Jace narrowed his eyes at the brothers. If they wouldn't trust them, he sure as hell wasn't going to either.

"Jace," Maryse reprimanded. "Excuse my son, he's not a morning person."

"It's fine," Sam said. "We get it, why should you trust us if we don't trust you."

Jace's look became even more sour now that it looked like Sam was going to make nice. Couldn't the giant see that he was trying to pick a fight? However, the older brother looked just as thrilled as Jace as Sam building fences, which was a nice consolation.

"Metatron is an angel who was the Scribe of God meaning he wrote down God's word on a series of tablets which he then placed all over the earth. However, that changed when God took an unannounced vacation to only God knows where."

Jace snorted at the pun, but otherwise remained sullen with his arms crossed.

"Metatron then went into hiding fearing that the new bureaucracy of heaven would come after him in an attempt to get all of the tablets. He believed without God heaven had become corrupt and didn't want anything to do with it."

Dean picked up the story from there. "Long story short, he then went and holed out with a bunch of Indians in Colorado since forever ago doing nothing but reading literal mountains of books. Real firebrand, that one."

"Anyway," Sam said. "He went with our friend who is also an angel - Castiel - to try and shut the gates of heaven. However, something went seriously wrong and all the angel's fell."

There was absolute silence in the room until Jace couldn't take it anymore. "Well, congratulations, Maryse, you've opened up the world of the Nephilim to a couple of complete nut jobs. Fantastic."

Maryse shot Jace a glare. "Although he is being more than rude, Jace does have a point. The story is a little . . . hard to swallow."

Dean shrugged. "Believe us, don't believe us. We told you our story. Now you tell us yours."

Clary was the one who began to talk this time. "Sebastian -"

But Jace cut her off. "Seriously, Clary? You're going to go ahead and explain Sebastian to a couple of guys who are either completely crazy or just fed us the most bogus story ever?"

"I believe them," Yalow cut in, louder than all the others. "If even half the stories about John Winchester and that family your mother comes from are true. I'm sure you boys find yourselves in those kind of situations more often then most."

"What do you know about Mom?" Sam asked puzzled.

"She was a Campbell, right?" Yalow asked.

Sam nodded his affirmation.

"Hear loads of stories about them. That family's been hunting longer than Nephilim have been around. I've even heard a couple of stories about the first of our kind - Jonathan Shadowhunter - was apprenticed to a Campbell. And your mother made a bit of name for herself with that rat pack she trained back in the day."

"You don't say," was the only response the brothers gave as they shared a look, but refused to elaborate.

"Wait," Alec interrupted. "You actually believe them."

Yalow gave a half shrug. "I'm saying it's possible, hell anything is really. I mean you've got a maniac part demon Morgenstern idiot trying to burn down the world because his mother didn't love him and his daddy screwed him over. Why can't the angels have fallen? Makes sense actually because that would explain why there isn't any heavenly intervention with what's sure to be a massive demon invasion."

"Part demon?" the older hunter questioned.

The members of the institute quickly shut up. Jace didn't want to explain; it wasn't their business anyway. And it wouldn't help them find a way to put an end to Sebastian either.

But, of course, Jace thought to himself, Clary would feel differently about that.

"Sebastian's my older brother," Clary began, drawing surprising looks from the Winchesters. "My father, Valentine, experimented with him, having my mother drink the blood of a demon while she was pregnant. So now he has demon blood with in him."

The two brothers shared a quick look, but Jace didn't understand what could have passed between them. Both looked impassive.

"He's evil," she continued. "All twisted up inside and wrong."

Jace couldn't help but notice a pained grimace pass over Sam's face and Dean's expression hardening. But why, Jace had no clue.

"And, I guess, since he never had any other options, he turned to the demons and both serves and acts as master over them. The world kicked him out, so he wants to burn it down. And he wants to start with us, the Nephilim."

With that Clary finished, and took a seat in the library. Sam in Dean did nothing but glance at each other, but Jace could tell there was an entire conversation there.

Finally, Maryse spoke up. "Sebastian has already attacked Alicante - our capital city - along with his father, and has created a cup which, for lack of a better term, turns Nephilim to the dark side. Infusing them with demonic, along with their previously angelic, powers.

"We don't know what he'll do next, but we know he's dangerous and has the ability to overpower angels. We are certain he will attack and soon. I was wondering if you have ever dealt with anything like this, and if you would be willing to help. After all, once he's done with us, he'll come after everyone else."

There was a pause as Sam and Dean had another of their silent conversations. Jace knew if the pair stuck around he was going to get irritated with them fast. However, they chose to speak out loud to each other, too.

"What about Cas?" Dean said at last.

"We'll get Garth and everybody else on it and keep checking, but meandering around the country won't help us any. Besides, Cas can take care of himself."

Dean seemed reluctant to agree. "He's our friend, Sam. We owe him. And no, I don't think Cas can take care of himself as a human; he could barely function as an angel at this point."

"Dean, I'm not saying we stop looking. I'm saying we wait and see what pops up because we don't have any leads. And this Sebastian guy needs to be dealt with. It shouldn't take us too long."

Jace rolled his eyes at that. He hadn't thought Sam the exaggerative one, but clearly he didn't understand just who they were going to be dealing with.

Dean paused, but then agreed. "We've dealt with worse than a punk-ass kid with serious family issues who likes to deal with demons and rip things apart. You're right. But after this is finished, we throw ourselves into finding Cas. Got it?"

Sam nodded his head, and the brothers turned back to the Nephilim. "So, what do you have other than a pair of rip off wings and a note in ancient Greek?"

Great, Jace thought, these were two idiots who were just going to wind up getting themselves killed. But at the same time, Jace had this funny feeling when the had said they had dealt with "worse." Something told Jace that he didn't really want to know what that had meant if they had been telling the truth.


End file.
